


Love Like a Roar

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fem Keith (Voltron), Fem Shiro (Voltron), Femslash, First Time, Genderswap, Getting Together, Hand & Finger Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 07, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Service Top Shiro (Voltron), Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: “We’ve faced worse. I’m okay, Shiro,” Keith says, marveling at the fact that this could bother Shiro quite so much.She knows they’re friends, of course. She knows Shiro worries about her. She knows—Shiro grabs Keith’s face then and tugs her up, kissing her. It stuns Keith into silence, robbing her of all thought and breath.Or: A near-miss during a Paladin fight puts things into perspective for Shiro, and for Keith.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 290
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	Love Like a Roar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vilna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilna/gifts).



> Happy [sheithlentines](https://twitter.com/mysheithlentine) to [Vilna](https://twitter.com/vilnakristiina)! 
> 
> Your list had so much good stuff, but I ultimately went for writing canonverse femsheith! I tried to get a few of your other wishlist items in here, too: size difference/kink, topping from the bottom, Keith getting wrecked, protectiveness. Also TRIED to add in some angst with a happy ending, melancholy, and pining... but didn't quite manage it since it devolved into pwp haha, but hopefully there's at least a little flavor of that. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this! ♥ I hadn't written femsheith yet before this, so it was so much fun to just go for it. 
> 
> Thank you to [Meg](https://twitter.com/kedawen) for the beta read!

Shiro looks wrecked when Keith and the Paladins limp onto the Atlas’ bridge, mission successful— but barely. Or maybe wrecked isn’t the right word. Devastation is closer. 

She’s devastated. 

Shiro’s always had a brilliant poker face, especially in the heat of battle or when commanding a team, but right now, Keith can see every emotion written plain on her face— and she’s not even attempting to school it. 

That’s what unsettles Keith the most as she enters the bridge. Keith waves helplessly at Shiro, hoping the simplicity and silliness of the action will set Shiro at ease: she’s fine, she’s okay, they made it out. 

But it seems to do the opposite: Shiro’s concern splinters across her face. 

And Keith’s never been able to handle an upset Shiro. She always wants to fix it. She sways from Hunk’s side, taking a step towards Shiro, her mouth open to say her name. 

“Let’s take a break,” Shiro announces to the bridge with her strong jaw clenched and her voice strained. “We’ll reconvene for Delta Shift.” 

It’s authoritative. Across the bridge, the crew chorus their acknowledgement. Shiro strides across the room, heading towards the exit, and stops only for a beat in front of Keith. 

Her hand cups Keith’s elbow. Her mouth is a thin, strained line, but her voice softens when she says: “Rest up, Keith.” 

“Shiro,” Keith says but Shiro’s already turning away, dismissing herself from the bridge. Her shoulders are rigid as she exits, her big hands curled at her sides. 

It takes Keith about two seconds to follow after Shiro— always falling back into Shiro’s orbit. 

She despairs the limp to her leg that keeps her from trotting after Shiro. But just before she turns a corner, Shiro slows enough for Keith to catch up. Keith’s hand catches on Shiro’s shoulder. 

“Shiro—” 

Shiro turns at the touch but doesn’t give Keith time to say anything else. She pulls Keith into her arms. 

Keith lets out a surprised breath at the sudden hug, but she’s quick to return it. She slings her arms around Shiro’s wide shoulders and squeezes tight, sinking against her. It’s always easy like this, falling against Shiro. Keith never feels safer than when she’s in Shiro’s arms. 

The hallway is empty, no stray crewmembers wandering around, and it feels strangely vulnerable. The two of them stand there, Keith on the tip of her toes to reach Shiro and Shiro’s broad hands tucked up against her back. 

Sometimes, it alarms Keith just how much she wants to be held. 

Longing, as always, blooms in Keith’s chest. She’s so _used_ to longing. She nuzzles against Shiro’s shoulder before she can second-guess it, wanting to be surrounded by Shiro. She wants to breathe her in. She never wants to be let go again. 

“Are you okay?” Keith finally asks when the seconds drag on and Shiro still hasn’t let her go.

If anything, the question makes Shiro hold her tighter. A small sound of frustration punches up her throat. 

“I should be asking _you_ that,” Shiro says. 

“I’m fine,” Keith dismisses immediately, patting Shiro’s back. 

Shiro makes another frustrated sound and pulls away from the hug. She grasps Keith tight by the wrist— large metal fingers curling easily around Keith’s slim wrist— and pulls her the rest of the way down the hallway. Keith blinks and stumbles after her. 

The door to the Captain’s quarters slides open as Shiro approaches, and she yanks Keith inside. Atlas helpfully lights the cabin for them, dim and welcoming and cozy— Keith’s always found Shiro’s room to be so comforting whenever she spends an evening here, just relaxing with Shiro— but when Shiro turns towards her, it’s anything but cozy. She’s wearing that same devastated look. 

“You were reckless today,” Shiro says. 

“Aren’t I always?” Keith replies, smiling. 

Shiro doesn’t return it, though. Her brow furrows. Keith’s smile slips off her face just as quickly as it flicked there. She takes a step closer towards Shiro. 

“Hey,” Keith says. “I’m fine. See?” 

Shiro shakes her head. “You almost _weren’t_.”

It’s true that it’d been a close call today. A routine scouting mission on a Coalition planet had turned into a Galra ambush. Black and Keith had taken most of the fire and it’d left Keith scrambling to maintain control and keep the other Paladins safe. 

They _had_ made it out safe, but not before their comms to the Atlas went dark. Without a visual, Keith can guess at what Shiro feared for those stretching minutes of long, steady silence. Even if Shiro doesn’t say it, Keith can guess at the way she’d worry, at the way she’d desperately call for Keith and wait, wait, keep waiting for Keith to respond. 

In the end, though, the Paladins had made it out successfully— only a few cuts and bruises. Keith thinks she might have a bruised hip in the morning, a few scrapes and dings on her thighs and arms from being shoved around Black’s cockpit by the force of the attacks. But nothing serious. The limp looks worse than it is. 

It’s not the first time they’ve been in danger. They’ve been in danger since the moment Shiro crashed back to Earth, before they even found Blue. Keith has no idea why today should be different, why Shiro’s so clearly rattled— hunched into herself and agitated. 

“Today ended up okay, Shiro,” Keith says, trying to be soothing. “We’ve faced worse.” 

But Shiro just shakes her head, grunting. She looks frustrated— not at Keith, but at herself. Keith steps closer, easing into Shiro’s space. That’s always been the way with them. Shiro rubs at her face and Keith lifts her hand, touching Shiro’s cheek. It’s just a brush of her fingertips against the strong, chiseled line of Shiro’s jaw. 

“I’m okay, Shiro,” Keith says, marveling at the fact that this could bother Shiro quite so much. 

She knows they’re friends, of course. She knows Shiro worries about her. She knows— 

Shiro grabs Keith’s face then and tugs her up, kissing her. It stuns Keith into silence, robbing her of all thought and breath. 

Keith can’t even really respond, her eyes blinking wide. She stares in shock at the determined twist of Shiro’s face, her clenched-shut eyes, her fingers pressing against Keith’s jaw. 

Just as quickly as Shiro kisses Keith, she stops. She steps back with a small breath. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, turning her face away— cheeks burning red and expression miserable. “That’s— that’s inappropriate.” 

Keith snorts at the word choice. Absurd, really, to think that anything Shiro could do to her would be inappropriate. Her brain hasn’t really caught up with her, though, unable and unwilling to acknowledge that Shiro just _kissed her_. Like it was easy, like they’ve always done that. 

Keith’s spent years reminding herself that Shiro will never love her like that. 

Shiro looks wounded. She scrubs her fingers through her hair, looking down at her boots. Keith knows Shiro— knows how important it is that she hold everything together, that she’s always so strong and sure and noble. That she’d let herself come so unraveled in front of Keith is a testament to their long-standing friendship and trust in one another. 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, stepping closer again. She cups her hands to Shiro’s shoulders, gripping tight. “Shiro, I’m okay. We got out alive. Everyone’s okay.” 

It seems she’s hit at the heart of it. Shiro clenches her eyes shut, her jaw flexing. Her throat clicks as she swallows. She turns from Keith then, wandering the room. She looks like a caged animal, pacing, and it strikes Keith again to reach for her. She tries to follow her, but Shiro just wanders, hands clenched at her sides. 

“God, I know we’re— I know we’re fighting a war,” Shiro admits, dropping down to sit on the edge of her bed, face in her hands. “I know I have no right to ask this of you, considering everything I’ve put you through. But, Keith— _Keith._ ” 

Keith drifts closer, hands lifted and seeking. She touches Shiro’s wrists, but Shiro doesn’t drop her hands from her face, so Keith lets her fingers drag down over her forearms, and then settle on her shoulders. 

She stands over Shiro, curving towards her. Shiro doesn’t look up but holds herself steady. Keith’s mouth burns from their kiss and she reminds herself to breathe. 

Muffled by her hands, Shiro whispers, “I can’t— I _can’t_ lose you, Keith.” 

“Shiro,” Keith says. 

“There was that explosion and you all— you _all_ went dark,” Shiro says. “I couldn’t even feel Black. I thought—” 

Keith feels a chill ripple down her spine. She squeezes Shiro’s hands and then drags them up. She cards her fingers through the longer bits of Shiro’s hair, pushing it away from her forehead, fingertips ghosting across the soft fuzz of her undercut. 

“Ever since the battle,” Shiro says. “On Earth. The one that put you all in the hospital.” 

“I remember,” Keith offers in a quiet murmur. 

Shiro slumps, ducking her head. She hooks both hands against the back of her neck, fingers locking together. It almost looks strange, the mismatch of the fingers, the size and the shape of them, even the color. The Altean hand is a sleek metallic, glinting in the light. 

“I thought I was used to it all,” Shiro admits. “Battles. Fighting. Always being just shy of dying.” 

It’s a hint at Shiro’s usual humor, dark and morbid, but Keith hates any allusion to Shiro’s own death. She makes a strained sound. 

“I know I don’t have a right to feel this way.” 

“Fuck that,” Keith says with feeling. 

“You’ve spent months thinking I was dead. I _did_ die,” Shiro says. “And I can’t handle ten minutes?” 

Keith’s heart feels heavy. She knows how important it is to Shiro to be the strong one, to hold things together. Keith has known the pain of losing Shiro— again and again. She’s familiar with the pain. It’s almost part of her now, that ever-present need to always protect Shiro.

Keith kneels before Shiro, hands falling to rest on her knees. She makes a soft sound when Shiro barely responds, when she only juts her chin out and swallows thickly, holding back the small, hitching sound. 

“Shiro,” Keith murmurs, imploring, seeking. She squeezes Shiro’s knees, inching closer. “ _Shiro._ ” 

“What would I do if I lost you?” Shiro whispers in the smallest voice. Then, slowly, she looks at Keith, meeting her eyes. 

The look steals the air from Keith’s lungs. 

The thing is, she does know a world without Shiro— and she never wants to see that world again. 

It is empty, dark, constricting. It’s suffocating. She can still remember the way the longing ached through her bones, how she’d spend days and days, for months, searching for Shiro. How it was never quite enough. Her very soul was always screaming for Shiro, trying to goad her onward. Keep searching. Keep looking. Never give up.

_Don’t give up on her._

It’s never occurred to Keith that Shiro might feel something similar, that the prospect of a world without Keith is just as upsetting. Shiro’s never known a world without Keith in it. And Keith wants to make sure she never does.

She catches Shiro’s chin with her hand and drags her down, kissing her with a barely suppressed whimper. “Shiro,” she whispers. “ _Shiro._ ” 

She doesn’t even think about it. Shiro kissed her before, and so Keith returns the favor. It doesn’t even occur to her to consider whether she should or not. 

But then Shiro kisses her back, something soft and sweet and _longing_. She sighs as if afraid it’ll end. She presses closer to Keith. 

They kiss like that, Keith on her knees before Shiro. Shiro parts her thighs to make room and Keith crawls closer to her, hands pawing at her, clinging to her. Whatever desperation Shiro was feeling seems to seep into Keith in turn, making her feel frenzied, that deep, primal need to reassure her— they’re fine, they’re alive, they’re safe. 

They break the kiss with a shared hitching sigh. Keith waits, holding her breath, unsure what Shiro will do or say or—

“Sorry,” Shiro gasps, and then reaches for Keith, dragging her in again. Her mouth is a hot press against Keith’s, “Sorry, I just—” 

Keith hums, fingers curling against Shiro’s chest. She tips up to meet her kiss and makes it dirty, licking and sucking at her bottom lip and pulling her down closer. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “Shiro. I’m here. It’s okay.” 

“I didn’t think…” Shiro begins, expression flickering. “I didn’t think it’d—” 

Instead of put voice to it, she just kisses Keith harder. Keith makes a soft sound, something that’s almost a keen, and meets that intensity. 

It feels affirming, to kiss Shiro— to have Shiro kiss her back. It makes something crack open in Keith’s chest. All that yearning, all that desire for Shiro. She’s long since settled for the knowledge that she’ll be gone on Shiro for the rest of her life. 

This threatens to undo her. But she can’t stop kissing her, can’t stop seeking Shiro’s mouth as Shiro reaches for her. She’ll give Shiro everything. Anything and everything. All of her. 

But Shiro seems to remember herself. She tips away from the kiss even as Keith squirms after her. She turns her head, clearing her throat, her expression splintering. 

Keith feels her heart sink. 

She can’t stomach the idea of apologizing— she isn’t sorry, can never be sorry for wanting to comfort Shiro. But Shiro’s hands touch Keith’s sides, unable or unwilling to let go. 

“I shouldn’t,” Shiro says, hedging. “I’m— I’m upset. You don’t— you don’t need to feel sorry for me.” 

Keith wants to snort again at the absurdity of it. She brushes the hair away from Shiro’s face, fingers skimming across her temple. 

“Shiro,” Keith murmurs, unable to hold back the small, disbelieving laugh. “I’m not doing this just to make you feel better.” 

“I’m taking advantage,” Shiro says. 

Keith shakes her head, rising and pushing on Shiro’s shoulders until she scoots back on the bed enough for Keith to kneel there before her. She reaches for Shiro’s hands, holding them gently with her own. 

“I’m safe,” Keith says again. “I’m here. We’re here. I want you to be okay, too.” 

Shiro shakes her head, not meeting Keith’s eyes. She studies their hands. 

“And you’re not taking advantage of me just because I want to make sure of that,” Keith adds. “I mean,” Keith says in a quiet voice. “You know how I feel.” She swallows. “The— our fight.” 

Shiro freezes then, tension lancing through her shoulders. Keith finds herself responding in turn, her shoulders hitching. 

The truth is, neither of them have talked about it. At first, Shiro was too in-and-out with returning to her body to talk about it. Then they were focused on getting home. Then they were home and battling the Galra. 

And then so much time had passed, it felt too infinite and expansive to bridge the words together, to ask Shiro what she remembers, if she _heard._ This is the first time Keith’s admitted her feelings since that moment she shouted it up at a mind-controlled Shiro hellbent on killing her. 

Shiro wilts. “You said—” 

“That I love you,” Keith interrupts.

“That I’m your sister,” Shiro says. At Keith’s incredulous look, she insists, “It isn’t the first time you’ve called me that, Keith.” 

And that’s true, too. Keith can’t count the number of times that she’s described Shiro to others as _like a sister to me_ or simply _my best friend in the entire world._ Hell, she’s called Shiro her sister to her face, multiple times. 

Some nights, she wakes up with nightmares from their fight. Never for the husky, dark tone of Shiro’s voice as she fought Keith, the static of her eyes, but rather scenarios where Keith shouts the words and they don’t reach Shiro. Or, worse still, that Shiro falls and Keith can’t tumble after her in time to save her. 

She realizes, thinking it over, that Shiro has never described her as _sister_ or _just friends_ in return. Always _Keith,_ and always, _The most important person in my life._ Never sister, always _A strong leader, a loyal friend, an amazing woman—_

Keith dives at Shiro then, shoving her back and crawling after her, kissing her with everything she can. Shiro makes an aborted attempt to say something but is quickly silenced by the sweep of Keith’s tongue. 

Shiro sighs, clutching to Keith. 

“For the record,” Keith whispers against Shiro’s lips, unwilling to pull away to speak properly, her lips ghosting across Shiro’s. “I’m in love with you and I have been since I was sixteen.” 

Somehow, despite the flurry of kisses, Shiro still looks stunned by the words. She blinks up at Keith in surprise and then, slowly, her expression blooms from shock to happiness. It’s a slow unfurling but it lights her from the inside out. 

Her hand is gentle against Keith’s cheek as she breathes out and kisses her, gentle and soothing. Keith melts against her. 

“Me too,” Shiro whispers, eyes big as she looks at Keith.

Keith’s breath hitches. “I—” 

“Me too,” Shiro says again, softer this time. “I love you, Keith.” 

“You—” Keith clutches at Shiro. She drags her in and kisses her hard. 

Where before Shiro’s kiss was sweet, deep and encompassing, now she nips at Keith’s lips, kissing her like she’s trying to steal her breath. It’s a hard rush and heat floods through Keith. It’s a heat fueled on by the steady brush of Shiro’s hands at her sides, wide and callused and beloved. But mostly, it’s the feeling of love that swells inside Keith— how deeply and infinitely she loves this woman. How strong she is and how gentle, how she never fails to be all around her, surrounding her. All of Keith belongs to Shiro— her senses, her heart, her body, her very breath. All of it is Shiro’s. Always Shiro’s. 

Keith might whimper. She isn’t sure. Shiro swallows it down, thumb soothing along the curve of her scar. She murmurs, “Shhh.” 

She punctuates the shush with a press of her lips, pillowing and reminding, and desire pulses through Keith. She wants to wrap herself in Shiro. She wants to have every inch of her body be covered in Shiro. It’s near suffocating.

It’s delirious, to be sitting here kissing Shiro, to know that Shiro is kissing her back. She doesn’t realize she’s crying until the sting of it pushes past her eyelids, streaking down her cheeks. 

Shiro breaks the kiss with a distressed sound. “Keith—” 

“No,” Keith begs before Shiro can pull back. She tightens her hold. “Don’t go. Don’t leave.” 

“Okay,” Shiro whispers and kisses her and kisses her and _kisses her._ Keith wants to sob with it, overwhelmed and _happy._

“I never thought—” 

“I do.” 

“I also—” 

“Yes,” Shiro breathes and kisses her. 

Keith doesn’t know how long they kiss like that, sliding away from gentle presses of their mouths and into something deeper, Shiro’s hands gliding over Keith’s body. Keith can’t even be embarrassed when she realizes she’s effectively straddling Shiro’s thigh and grinding down against it. She can feel everything through the skin-tight trousers of her uniform, desire building in smoldering embers. She rocks her body down and feels the hush of Shiro’s breath against her lips. 

Keith brushes her fingers through Shiro’s hair, pushing back the longer silver and scrubbing her fingers through the tingling buzz of her freshly shaved undercut. She grabs her by her ears and drags her in closer, sucking on her tongue. 

Shiro groans her appreciation, her fingers keying up Keith’s spine. 

“Hey,” Shiro whispers against Keith’s kiss-swollen mouth. 

“Mm?” 

“We should get back, shouldn’t we?” Shiro asks breathlessly. And maybe she’s right. 

But the last thing Keith wants to do is go back to the bridge. She shakes her head, clinging to Shiro and pressing kiss after kiss against her smiling mouth. 

“Delta Shift isn’t for hours,” she says. 

“Keith—” 

“And I’m reassuring you that I’m alive,” Keith mutters against Shiro’s mouth. She squirms her hips down, seeking the friction offered by Shiro’s strong, muscular thigh. 

Shiro chuckles, throaty and deep in her chest. “I can tell you are.” 

It’s a hard-won joke and harder-won laugh, considering Shiro’s earlier distress, and Keith seizes upon it. She presses kiss after kiss against Shiro’s jaw, nuzzling, something like a purr rumbling in her chest. She wriggles closer and Shiro’s hands are there on her hips, steadying her. 

“Let me, I want—” Keith begins, fumbling through words. “Let me _show you_ that I’m okay.” 

“Keith—” Shiro whispers, hushed, but lets Keith shove her down onto her back. In the end, she hardly looks like she needs convincing. 

Shiro’s hands slip up under Keith’s uniform coat and, with trembling fingers, Keith plucks at the buttons and shoves it off for Shiro. She dives back down to catch Shiro’s mouth with a kiss, whimpering out her name. 

“Keith…” Shiro soothes, quiet, nibbling at Keith’s mouth. “It’s okay.” 

“It is,” Keith agrees and kisses her harder. She shivers at the kiss of the air against her bare arms, only in her shirtsleeves and trousers, and wanting to be closer. 

She’s overwhelmed with everything she wants, with everything she can do. Shiro is here, beneath her, hands on her, and Keith _wants_. She tugs at Shiro’s uniform, ineffective in getting the buttons undone, especially when Shiro’s big hands run up Keith’s arms, so very little between her and the molten heat of Shiro’s body. 

“Keith,” Shiro says again, like she’s going to tell Keith to slow down, that she doesn’t have to do this, that it’s okay—

Keith yanks on Shiro’s coat and the black buttons go flying. 

“Oh,” Keith mutters, surprised. 

Shiro laughs, like it’s startled from her, and then she grabs Keith to roll them over. Keith splays out on her back, hitching her breath as Shiro kneels above her, smiling down at her with a knowing smile, something soft in her eyes but wicked on her lips. 

It’s nearly too much to see Shiro in this context— her hair wild and falling in her eyes, her uniform coat open to expose the full line of her throat, her mouth-watering collarbones, the hinting swell of her breasts. 

“May I?” Shiro asks, her hand ghosting down Keith’s belly. Keith sucks in a breath and nods, unsure what exactly she’s saying yes to, but willing to say yes every time— anything, everything, for Shiro.

Emboldened by the response, Shiro hooks her fingers in Keith’s clothes and slowly, but surely, strips her. It’s strange to be naked on Shiro’s bed. Like something out of any number of dreams she’s forced herself to ignore. Her chest heaves with breath and she reaches up blindly for Shiro, trying to coax the same state of undress from her. 

Shiro catches her hand and kisses her palm with such startling tenderness that Keith nearly starts crying again. 

“What do you want?” Shiro asks her.

“You.”

Shiro laughs, a broken sound, startled and tapering off. 

Keith doesn’t pout, but it’s a near thing. “I’m serious.” 

“I know. It’s sweet,” Shiro answers and dips down to kiss Keith. It makes Keith arch, her toes curling. “Keith?” 

“Mm.” 

“Have you done this before?” Shiro asks her quietly. 

Keith turns her head, hiding against her shoulder with a grunt. She tugs hard on Shiro’s hair. 

“No,” she mutters. She isn’t embarrassed about it, but she feels inadequate. She doesn’t know quite what to do, except in theory. Before Shiro can try to be noble, she glares up at her and adds, “I want this, Shiro.” 

Shiro smiles down at her and lets Keith reach for her, helping to strip her of her clothes. 

When Shiro’s naked, Keith can’t stop staring. She kneels on the bed over Keith, her smile turning a touch shy as she Keith studies her, even line of her muscle, jag of her scar, flat of her belly, curve of her breasts. 

“Oh,” Keith murmurs, jolting when Shiro presses her hands down against her stomach and drags up, touching her. Her big thumbs flick across Keith’s nipples and it’s the first startling touch on her body that Keith can’t deny. She sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Yeah?” Shiro asks her, her smile lopsided and sweet.

Keith nods. “Y- yeah. Yeah, Shiro. Come here.” 

Shiro chuckles and leans down obediently, kissing Keith with such devastating sweetness that Keith wants to cry from it. Keith’s fingers skirt down Shiro’s back, feeling along her spine, following the trail of it. She drags Shiro down closer.

When their bodies press together, it’s nearly too much. Keith keeps expecting something to go wrong, for Shiro to realize her mistake, for Keith to fuck up somehow, for another attack to hit Atlas and interrupt them. 

She kisses Shiro breathless. Keith feels too cold where Shiro hasn’t touched her. 

They press together like that, kissing and kissing. It’s endless. It’s perfect. 

Overwhelmed, unthinking, Keith’s fingers trail down to touch herself. She slips them across her cunt, getting her fingers wet with herself, circling around her clit. 

Shiro makes a sound when she realizes, seizes Keith’s wrist, and pulls her hand up. Keith whimpers, and then muffles a quiet cry when Shiro licks her wet fingers. Her hand looks so small in the sure width of Shiro’s Altean hand. 

“If you want me to touch you…” Shiro begins.

“Please—” 

Shiro sucks on her finger. Keith groans when Shiro sucks them into her mouth, tongue laving over each one. Keith bites her lip, eyes clenching shut, just feeling the swipes of Shiro’s tongue across the pads of her fingers. It’s sensory overload. She wants too much. 

“Shiro,” she whimpers. 

Shiro withdraws her fingers, pressing one little kiss against her knuckles. “I’m here.” 

“Touch me,” Keith whispers, “Fuck.” 

Shiro chuckles at that, looking just as overwhelmed as Keith feels. She ducks down to kiss Keith as she drags her fingers down Keith’s body, down the valley of her breasts, her belly, and lower, across the scratch of her pubic hair and then pressing against her. It’s an exploratory swipe of her fingers at first and even that is breathtaking. 

Shiro is touching her— and it’s too much. Keith sucks in a sharp breath against Shiro’s kiss, her hips swiveling upward, seeking the touch. She wants to press against it just as much as she wants to squirm away, feeling too exposed. But Shiro’s fingers are swift and sure against her body, dragging over her folds. 

Shiro pulls back from the kiss with a soft moan, her pupils blown wide. 

“You’re so—” 

“Mm,” Keith keens, questioning. 

“You’re already so wet,” Shiro breathes, marveling. “I’ve— _Keith._ ” 

They’ve barely started and it’s true that Keith feels utterly soaked, slick and unembarrassed about it. She loves Shiro, she’s always loved Shiro— and just being like this with her is overwhelming, everything she’s always dreamed of it being. She feels dizzy. 

Shiro looks punched out, too, her cheeks flush and her lips parted as she watches Keith move beneath her. Keith moves on instinct, unsure what to do but knowing what feels good. Shiro strokes her fingers over her, circling gently over her clit. 

That’s what makes Keith tense up and arch like a bow, gasping out. “Oh—!” 

“Look at you,” Shiro marvels, breathless, once Keith’s slumped back down again. She drags her thumb across Keith’s clit again and this time Keith’s ready for it, rubbing down against Shiro’s thick fingers. 

Fuck, but Keith loves Shiro’s hands. 

“Rather look at you,” Keith shoots back and laughs, her heart feeling all squirmy in her chest. 

Shiro laughs too and drops a kiss to the tip of Keith’s nose, then slants across her mouth. It’s a sweet kiss, nearly innocent if not for the fact that they’re pressed flush and naked together on the bed, Shiro’s fingers playing over Keith’s cunt. 

And then, blissfully, Shiro’s fingers move with more purpose. She spreads Keith open, playing and teasing, and then slip down, teasing at her hole. Keith sucks in a sharp breath, tensing, preparing. 

“Relax,” Shiro whispers in her ear and Keith closes her eyes, focusing on letting her body sink down against the mattress.

She lets out a breath just as Shiro presses a finger inside her. It’s so thick, Altean metal pulsing warm inside Keith’s body. The intrusion is a welcome one and already Keith feels full. Her thighs tremble as she spreads them wider, making space for Shiro between her legs, touching her. 

“Oh,” Keith sighs again and holds tight to Shiro’s shoulders as she moves above her, rocking her finger up inside Keith’s body. It feels good, the shallow thrusts of it and then the deeper, searching up inside her. She clenches around Shiro’s finger. 

Shiro thumbs across her clit, slow and sure, and Keith’s a livewire. She comes with a startled gasp, the sensation of it startling her. She’s never come so fast in her life. She flings her hand down and clenches around Shiro’s wrist, keeping her pressed there as she writhes against her fingers, bucking her hips and riding out the sensations as they slice through her, sparklers and shivers and _perfection._

She’s gasping for breath when her vision zeroes back in on Shiro, who hovers above her, looking delighted. When Keith makes a soft, pleased whimper in response to Shiro’s smile, it just means Shiro ducks down to kiss her. 

“Beautiful,” Shiro whispers against Keith’s mouth. 

It makes Keith grumble a protest that Shiro swallows up with another small, smiling kiss. She presses a second finger inside her, and the stretch is perfect. 

“So beautiful,” Shiro insists, thrusting her fingers up to make Keith gasp. She moves them in shallow little movements, dipping in without pressing in deep and it’s frustrating, devastating, and Keith’s a trembling mess before she knows it, pawing weakly at Shiro’s shoulders. 

“ _Shiro_ ,” she begs, blinking up at her.

“Too much?” Shiro asks her quietly. “Too sensitive?”

Keith shakes her head, shimmying her hips. “Don’t go.” 

Shiro’s silver hair’s gone damp with sweat, clinging to her forehead, curled sweetly against her dark brows. Her eyes are darker still as she gazes down at Keith, like she’s torn between cooing and eating her up, like she wants everything at once. It’s such a heated look and it shocks Keith to her core to know that she’s the one Shiro’s looking at like this. The only one. 

“I know what you need,” Shiro assures her. 

And then she draws away from Keith. Keith whimpers when Shiro shoulders her thighs apart and settles, dropping a soft kiss against Keith’s heaving belly, following the trail of hair downward. Keith bites her lip, shuddering. 

But instead of licking at her cunt, as Keith expects and yearns for, Shiro just nuzzles at her hip and then her thigh. Shiro presses a kiss to her knee, her thigh, her hip. She nuzzles against her stomach and works her way up in slow, sloppy kisses. She licks her tongue flat against her nipple, her fingers following up along her waist, keying along her ribs. It nearly makes Keith feel ticklish, squirming beneath Shiro. 

“Shiro—” 

“Not what you had in mind?” Shiro teases. 

Keith does pout this time. “ _Shiro._ ” 

“Alright,” Shiro says with a smile, and she looks delighted, light in a way she hasn’t in months— like just being here with Keith has taken all burdens from her shoulders. 

Shiro ducks her head again, focusing now— so steady, so focused on serving Keith. It’s bringing her so close to the brink again. She never even realized she could come again so soon. 

Shiro’s fingers fill her and she feels like she’s being split open. She trembles apart. 

“Fuck,” she gasps, body arching, her legs shaking as she spreads them further. Shiro obeys the silent plea, pressing her fingers in deeper, stretching her wide. She’s so wet, so full. It’s suffocating. “Fuck me,” Keith groans, body heaving with the desire for it. “Shiro—” 

Shiro answers by curling her fingers and it makes Keith arch her back. Shiro’s staring at her with undisguised wonder, her eyes glittering, and Keith wants to cry just from the look of delight there— at how wondering and endeared Shiro looks, hair in disarray, body resting between Keith’s legs like she’s always been there. 

“Fuck me,” Keith says again. 

“How?” Shiro asks her, voice husky and warm, her smile a slow curl. She presses an open-mouthed, sucking kiss against Keith’s inner thigh and it makes her shudder. “How do you want me to fuck you, Keith?” 

“Oh—” Keith gasps as it floods through her, all the things she’s never let herself focus on but has so desperately wanted. Her fingers ache with how tightly they curl in Shiro’s hair, yanking it away from her face. 

When Keith doesn’t answer, Shiro just hums, teasing, her smile a slow curl. 

“Fingers?” She twists the ones inside Keith just to get Keith to gasp. “Mouth?” She laps at Keith’s clit and Keith’s breath stutters. 

“Fuck!” Keith bucks her hips up. “God. _Shiro._ ” 

“Shame I can’t make this hand vibrate,” Shiro says, so casual and conversation it’s like she’s discussing the weather. Her grin is teasing, eyes sparkling. “Maybe next time. Or we can go to the space mall and find something else.” 

Keith wants to start sobbing. She wants to whine for her desires, for how overwhelmed she feels. Shiro strokes her fingers inside Keith and sucks gently at her, her tongue pressing a flat stripe over her. Keith feels so wet, pulled open and pliant beneath Shiro’s talented lips. Keith might actually sob out. 

“Fingers and mouth, then,” Shiro decides, her smile wicked and lips shiny with _Keith_. 

Shiro’s fingers stroke over her, spreading her open as Shiro ducks down and licks a stripe right over her. Keith’s too wet with Shiro’s mouth soft against her, slick and moving across her folds. Keith shudders, biting down on her lip to swallow down the delirious mewl Shiro draws from her, tongue tracing along her clit, then over the shape of her cunt. Shiro presses closer, breath coming out in a delighted moan as she laps at Keith. 

Keith can only cling to Shiro and hold on, grasping her hair and crying out. Shiro hums out her delight in response, softening her attentions in a way that only drives Keith closer to the edge. She rocks her body forward, seeking the wet slide of Shiro’s tongue, the soft pillow of her lips. 

Shiro’s fingers stroke down alongside her tongue, tracing along her cunt, and Keith whimpers. “Shiro—” 

Shiro hums and laps at her, teasing her tongue inside her. Keith’s breaths are ragged, desperate moans. She rocks down against Shiro’s mouth, groaning at the feeling of Shiro’s tongue darting inside her, tasting her. 

Between her legs, Shiro looks blissed out. Keith can see the slight curve of her smile as she licks at Keith, as she presses in deeper. She moans quietly and Keith feels it vibrating against her cunt. Shiro draws away enough to thumb at her clit in a slow circle, then sliding her fingers down. She presses two inside Keith and returns to lapping at her clit with such intensity and single-minded focus that Keith thinks she might know what it means to see stars. 

She shudders, clenching around the fingers inside her. She yowls when Shiro drags her tongue over her and presses it inside alongside her finger. Shiro doesn’t stay still inside her. No, she’s brutal in the way she strokes up, in how wide and sure her fingers work inside Keith. 

Keith’s split open just from that, with how wide Shiro’s hand is. She’s panting. She yanks on Shiro’s hair, trying to squirm her closer, wanting to feel her fingers, her tongue. She wants to feel the ghost of Shiro’s smile against her clit, the huff of her pleased breath to bring Keith so close to the edge like this. Keith’s never felt like this before. 

When she comes, it feels nearly like an afterthought— like she’s just lost in the sensation of it all, that she wants to get lost just in the feeling of Shiro here with her. 

Keith gives a breathy moan as Shiro licks gently at her clit. It’s a careful touch, one that invites Keith just to rock with it. She does, rolling her hips down against Shiro’s lips, just drifting in the pleasure of it, in the sensual centering of having Shiro so close to her, to be holding her so carefully. 

In the wake of her orgasm, Keith can only lie there panting, her body pliant and open and _Shiro’s_. 

Shiro smiles up at her, serene and kind. She strokes a hand over Keith’s hip. “Look at you,” she whispers again. “Beautiful.” 

Shiro’s the beautiful one, though. Handsome and wicked, her hair a wild halo around her and her smile satisfied and sweet. 

“God,” Keith grunts, unable to fight back her helpless smile. She tugs on Shiro’s bangs. “You— I should—” 

“It’s alright,” Shiro assures her. “In a minute.” 

She mouths over Keith’s shivering thigh. Keith whimpers, oversensitive and needy. She feels damp all over, wet between her thighs and longing for the slide of Shiro’s tongue again. She wants to feel Shiro, too. She wants to make Shiro feel good.

But Shiro looks happy— like this is everything that she needs. And maybe it is. There’s no better way to affirm that Keith is alive and safe than to feel her moving like this beneath her. 

Keith wants more. She wants to do more. 

Keith grasps Shiro’s shoulders and rolls them easily, shoving her down and throwing her leg over Shiro’s body to straddle her stomach. 

Keith feels herself slide against Shiro’s stomach, against those hard abs. She watches Shiro’s chest swell with breath as she blinks up at Keith, her expression quickly turning moony. 

Keith knows she must look a sight, blissed out and flushed, curving over Shiro’s prone body. Keith would never describe herself as beautiful, but she feels she’s so just from the way Shiro gazes up at her. 

Keith gulps down air, summons that confidence again, and slides her hands up— she plays with Shiro, thumbs dragging over her nipples, before she ghosts up to cup her face and leans down. She kisses Shiro brutally, aiming for passion over finesse. She knows she isn’t a good kisser, but Shiro hardly seems to care. She arches to meet Keith, gasping her name against Keith’s teeth as she nibbles at her bottom lip. 

“I’m—” Keith swallows and clears her throat, her voice gravelly and husked out when she draws back from the kiss. “I’m going to sit on your face now. Okay?” 

“Oh,” Shiro says and then grins. “Wow. Yes. Okay.” 

“Okay,” Keith agrees, feeling emboldened by Shiro’s stunned but delighted response. She swallows again and lifts herself away from Shiro. She crawls up the length of her body as Shiro scoots down, lying on her back. 

Her big hands find Keith’s thighs, stroking upward. She squeezes Keith’s ass and spreads her, one finger ghosting down into the cleft of her ass and over her hole. It makes Keith shudder at the thought of Shiro pressing inside there, too, and she trembles, shoving Shiro down flat again by her shoulders. 

Once satisfied with Shiro’s position, she angles herself best she can, planting her hands on the wall in front of her. She glances down to find Shiro looking up at her, her hands still squeezing her ass. 

“Okay?” Keith asks again.

Instead of answering, Shiro turns her head and presses a sloppy kiss against Keith’s thigh. Then she licks upwards, following the line of Keith’s body until she finds her cunt again. 

That is, truly, answer enough. Keith moans, back arching, and rolls her hips down against Shiro’s seeking mouth. One of her hands drops down off the wall to fist in Shiro’s hair instead, guiding her up to find the places that really make electricity shoot through her. 

Shiro looks delighted, her hair pinned back from her forehead by Keith’s hand, her eyes dark and promising. Shiro groans her appreciation as her mouth engulfs Keith, licking and sliding her lips across her wet cunt, sucking and seeking the ways to make Keith shout.

And she does, one startled gasp of Shiro’s name before she’s rocking down and riding Shiro’s tongue. 

It’s blissful like this— she chases the feeling of Shiro, satisfied to chase it all forever. 

She rolls her hips down, rutting against Shiro, and she comes with a low cry. It makes her breath catch, her body swell, her hips dart beyond her senses. It shocks through her body and Keith thinks she’s never going to get used to the feeling of it, how encompassing it all is— and because of Shiro. 

She slumps, trying to catch her breath. 

Keith’s eyes flutter shut as she lets herself feel it, focus on just the feeling of Shiro against her. The squeeze of her big hands on Keith’s ass, the slide of her tongue. Even the stretch of Keith’s legs as she straddles over her, bumping down against Shiro’s wide shoulders. Everything about Shiro is a marvel. 

She’s panting before she knows it, brought so close to the edge by Shiro. She feels like a wreck with the way Shiro’s tongue drags slow and purposeful from her clit down to her hole, how she dips inside her so easily, and back out again. 

Keith mewls when Shiro’s fingers spread her open again, holding her like that as she suckles at her clit.

“Fuck!” Keith cries out, ducking her head, her hair spilling forward. “Fuck, Shiro!” 

Shiro hums, something that almost sounds like Keith’s name, lapping at the wet center of her. 

“Please,” Keith pants, rocking her hips down. “I need more. Please—” 

Shiro responds to the garbled demand, her fingers pressing inside Keith. Three this time, so thick and so wide. The Altean hand is so much bigger, so _huge_. Keith whimpers as she spreads her legs, rocking her hips down. The stretch is near enough to be painful, too abrupt and too wide, but she wants it, she wants every inch of her body claimed by Shiro. 

Shiro’s other hand drags over Keith’s thigh, petting her and trailing up to squeeze her hip. It slips across her heaving stomach and up, pinching one nipple before dragging away again. Her hand is so rough, warm and callused, and it makes Keith shiver. She feels her body roll in a slow, sensual slide. 

She opens her eyes, tipping her head down and finds Shiro staring up at her. Keith huffs a breath, embarrassed suddenly by the position— she can’t exactly hide her expression, either. She feels more than hears the huff of Shiro’s laughter against her cunt. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, drawing back enough to look at her properly. 

Keith’s hand falls to cover Shiro’s eyes before she can think of it, laughing. It’s strange to feel delirious and bubbled over with happiness, just looking into Shiro’s eyes. They always do that. That’s hardly new. But it’s different in this context.

Shiro laughs, her smile light. “Hey…” 

“Hey,” Keith repeats, voice breathy and threadbare. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“How am I looking at you?” Shiro asks, a tease to her voice. She presses a kiss to Keith’s thumb when she swipes it across Shiro’s mouth, feeling the slick wetness of her own body on Shiro’s lips. 

“Like I’m doing something amazing,” Keith says, aiming for teasing but landing too short of earnest— too vulnerable. 

Shiro makes a sound. She must hear it too. A moment later, Keith’s tipping backwards as Shiro upsets their balance. 

Keith gasps, but lets herself fall, trusting Shiro to let her land. They end up in a heap on the bed, Shiro pressing down against her and kissing her like it’s the last thing she’ll ever be able to do. Keith loops her arms around Shiro’s neck and holds on, helpless against it. She tastes herself on Shiro’s lips. 

“ _You’re_ amazing,” Shiro promises against her mouth, worshipful and sweet. “God, Keith. You’re amazing. Everything about you. I—” 

Keith bites at Shiro’s lip, hard enough to sting, almost afraid to hear the words. She whimpers when Shiro just keeps kissing her, when she presses full-bodied against her. When her fingers find Keith’s hole again, stroking inside her, it takes only a few swipes of her thumb across her clit to make Keith come on her fingers. 

She cries out weakly into the kiss, shuddering apart. Shiro holds her through it, whispering her name and a smattering of praise against her parted lips. 

“I love you,” Shiro tells her once Keith opens her eyes again— and what a wonder it is, to hear the words, to see the way Shiro looks at her, really looks at her. 

Keith sucks in a sharp breath, feeling weightless. She cups Shiro’s chin and drags her in closer, kissing her again and again and again. Her throat is tight. 

“Love you,” Keith whispers against her mouth. It’s bliss to finally say it, to say it and have it be heard, to feel the way it ripples through Shiro’s body, how she presses down closer against her, how they are flush together. 

Shiro presses sloppy kisses against her mouth and over her jaw, nuzzling at her neck. She stuffs Keith full with two fingers and they slide so easily inside Keith, open and wet and ready for her. She shivers, hips lifting to meet the simple press of them inside her. She wants to always feel full like this, to always have Shiro pressing down against her. She’s so big. She’s surrounded. 

When they part again, Shiro presses her forehead down against Keith’s, their noses brushing. Keith’s thumb drags along the sharp line of her jaw then ghosts across her bottom lip, feeling the lingering wetness of their kiss. Keith swallows, her heart pounding. 

“I don’t want to wake up,” Shiro admits in a soft voice. 

“You’re not dreaming,” Keith says, reassuring. It makes Shiro’s smile widen, her eyes sparkling in the light— misty-eyed, sure, but gentler than that. 

Shiro’s touch is infinite. Keith feels loose and needy, slick and opening easily to Shiro’s thick fingers. She lifts her hips, hitching them. She feels the pinprick of a fang against her lip and knows her eyes must be bleeding yellow— heightened moments making her turn Galra. 

Shiro murmurs soothingly to her, her expression eager and moony, like she can’t tear her eyes away from Keith. Like Keith is everything. 

She arches up, nosing at Shiro’s neck, murmuring her name between small, hitching gasps. 

“I’ve got you,” Shiro promises her and it’s nearly too much. She mewls quietly, arching against the slow thrust of Shiro’s fingers inside her. She wants to bite Shiro, mark her up, she wants to inhale and suffocate on just the smell of her. 

It’s nearly too much, to hold Shiro like this, to feel Shiro like this. 

“Let me touch you, too,” Keith says, pleading. 

Shiro groans and nods her head. Keith drags her hand down the length of Shiro’s body, seeking her cunt. Shiro’s fingers tangle with hers and draws her down, guiding her to where she needs to go, where she needs to stroke and press and tease. 

Keith looks on in wonder at the way Shiro’s brow furrows, the way her lips part as she starts panting. She must be close, Keith realizes— thrilled to realize that she gets to see this, that she gets to know this about Shiro. Thrilled to know that it takes so little, that simply taking care of Keith made her this way. 

Keith slides her fingers in deeper, spreading them, fucks them up inside Shiro. She marvels at the way Shiro moves to meet her, at the way her body clenches around Keith’s slim fingers. Keith whimpers despite herself and Shiro gives a breathy laugh. 

Shiro’s so slick, so wet and open for Keith. Keith nuzzles at Shiro’s jaw, moving her fingers in harder, quicker, seeking all the spots that make Shiro’s breath hitch. 

“Shiro,” she mewls, feeling Shiro arch above her. 

“Yeah,” Shiro murmurs, turning her head and pressing her lips against the curve of Keith’s jaw. She sinks down closer against Keith, hips rocking, and noses into her hair. She breathes out against Keith’s ear, whispering, “Yeah, Keith. Keith— _Keith._ ” 

Then Shiro tenses above her, holding tight to Keith as she comes. Keith feels it rock through her, feels the way Shiro drips around Keith’s fingers, how she clenches and ruts against her, seeking friction, seeking release. 

Keith moans Shiro’s name and meets Shiro’s seeking mouth in a desperate kiss. Shiro’s free hand finds Keith’s and holds tight, fingers intertwining. 

They lay like that together, panting, catching their breaths. When Shiro turns her head, it’s only so Keith can kiss her sloppily. They swap kisses like that, Shiro’s full weight pressing down against Keith. It feels protective in its own way, almost possessive. Keith happily sinks beneath the heavy weight— pressed down by the love of her life. 

“Shiro,” Keith sighs between kisses.

Shiro tips back just enough to brush their noses together, foreheads pressing down. “Feeling good?” 

“Mm,” Keith murmurs, fingers playing over Shiro’s body. She wants to touch her again. She wants to make her come as many times as Shiro made _her_ come. 

But Shiro merely catches her hand and draws it back up, kissing each fingertip and then each knuckle, then the palm of her hand. Keith’s fingers look so small cupped around the massive palm. Keith shivers and bites her lip. 

Shiro smiles at her, as if she might guess what Keith’s thinking. 

Keith sighs and kisses Shiro when she leans in to do so. They swap kisses like that, letting the heat between them gentle into a low simmer, something burning like embers, ready to flare up again but quieter now. 

Keith luxuriates in the attention, a lick of a purr curling in her chest. She loves the feeling of Shiro’s hands on her, how gently she touches her. 

“Beautiful,” Shiro says again and Keith nearly laughs. She nearly cries, too. 

She pets her fingers through Shiro’s hair and kisses her hard. She bites her lip once before she draws away, smiling. 

“Shiro,” she answers. Beautiful Shiro. 

Shiro’s hand strokes over Keith’s flank. Her smile is sweeter when she kisses first Keith’s mouth, then her cheek, then her temple. She nuzzles into her hair. 

“I trust you,” Shiro tells her, more sober now, but voice still soft and sexed out. “But… I just want you to be careful out there. I don’t—” 

“Now that I know I have this waiting for me, no way I’m dying,” Keith decides and laughs to show she’s joking. Shiro’s smile tilts up at one corner, which Keith considers a win. “Seriously,” she tells Shiro, cupping her cheek, her thumb swiping. “I know we can’t… really promise it. But— so long as I can help it, I’m never leaving you. And you’re never leaving me.” 

“When you say it, I believe it,” Shiro says. “All things considered.” 

Keith laughs again, feeling all squirmy. She touches Shiro’s face, swiping her thumb gently. “Exactly. If I’ve saved you once, I’ll save you again.” 

“We’ll save each other,” Shiro shoots back and then grins. “I remember.”

“Ha,” Keith breathes. She tangles her fingers in Shiro’s hair, pushing it from her face. “And— I’ll always come back to you. Okay?” 

That makes something ease in Shiro’s eyes. She nods. “Yeah. I can work with that.” 

“Good,” Keith whispers, and drags her in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/stardropdream)


End file.
